Gemotions

The crisp autumn air bit at Elara’s cheeks as she walked through the park. She clutched the handwritten pages to her chest, the paper crinkling with each step. She had found it hidden amongst Oliver's old sketchbooks, a collection of stories about their life.

She inhaled deeply, the scent of fallen leaves filling her lungs. Oliver, in the story, was a bumbling, well-meaning sort. She, however, was the one who could solve all problems. He saw her as the glue holding them together, a vibrant force.

She stopped by the old oak tree, her favorite spot. She'd known for a long time how he felt about her. She was his muse, his inspiration.

A warm sensation flooded her chest. He'd been writing about their life, about *her*, and she found it utterly endearing. She felt a surge of affection for him. Her lips curled into a small, happy smile as she made her way home.